[ Spock doesn't argue. The chastisement doesn't seem to make him flinch, single-minded as he is. Something is seeping beneath the first layer of his shields, mercury slick and irascible. His eyes are dark and focused, his attention anchored solely onto Jim. It becomes evident that Spock is more than accustomed to this, more than accustomed to listening where it is needed. He heeds Jim, not blindly, but because Jim has earned it.
Tooth and sweat and nail, to borrow a Human sentiment, Jim has more than earned it.
Spock draws himself to the full of his height, expression still and stern. He follows Jim without question, leaving the pleas to linger in favor of keeping to the chain of command he knows. It is not a personal slight. He knows that Gwen knows. He knows, in his absence, Gwen would have been able to explain it. ]
Emotional transference is likely, [ Spock supplies, climbing into the tub alongside Jim. It's a tight fit, but it works. ] Headaches, nausea. [ He tips his head back against the tile, the cool of the ceramic a comfortable counterpoint to the ache in his skull. ] The loss of one's ego, should you allow me to initiate a proper meld.
[ He pauses, the dark of his brows pulling together just enough to furrow. ]
These effects are common. [ Softer: ] I will not be looking to be gentle. The damage I may inflict would prove to be lasting, permanent.
[ That should be enough information. There's a reason he doesn't go into much depth with outsiders, knowing the concept of entering the sanctity of one's thoughts and reading one's feelings enough of a violation if even perceived. ]
no subject
Tooth and sweat and nail, to borrow a Human sentiment, Jim has more than earned it.
Spock draws himself to the full of his height, expression still and stern. He follows Jim without question, leaving the pleas to linger in favor of keeping to the chain of command he knows. It is not a personal slight. He knows that Gwen knows. He knows, in his absence, Gwen would have been able to explain it. ]
Emotional transference is likely, [ Spock supplies, climbing into the tub alongside Jim. It's a tight fit, but it works. ] Headaches, nausea. [ He tips his head back against the tile, the cool of the ceramic a comfortable counterpoint to the ache in his skull. ] The loss of one's ego, should you allow me to initiate a proper meld.
[ He pauses, the dark of his brows pulling together just enough to furrow. ]
These effects are common. [ Softer: ] I will not be looking to be gentle. The damage I may inflict would prove to be lasting, permanent.
[ That should be enough information. There's a reason he doesn't go into much depth with outsiders, knowing the concept of entering the sanctity of one's thoughts and reading one's feelings enough of a violation if even perceived. ]